


Trial by Denial

by AgentStovring



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStovring/pseuds/AgentStovring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse doesn't know why anyone would think that he and Andrew are lovers. Then he slowly starts to understand..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trial by Denial

What Jesse doesn't understand is where it all came from, the whole deal about him and Andrew being gay for each other. Ridiculous. He wasn't gay for anyone, neither was Andrew as far as he knew, and certainly not for Jesse; they were simply two people who had met because of a movie, and who happened to have a strong connection right off the bat. As friends, of course, they were only friends. They had been brought even closer by playing the fictional alter-egos of two people, Mark and Eduardo, who just happened to be really tight knit and have a lot of love for one another. Also just as friends, of course. But people read all sorts of things into it when two men did not hide how much they cared for each other.

Like, just recently, Jesse had passed a newsstand on his way to a lunch with his agent and right there on the front page was a picture of two men (Jesse believed they were both actors) who were walking hand in hand. The headline screamed, “Dax & Justin Get Handsy! Read all about the bromance that is taking it to the next step!”   
No thank you. He didn't need to read about gossip-magazines and their ludicrous conspiracies. Those two guys were probably just really good friends who weren't so damn afraid of showing people that they had love for each other. As friends. Jesse thought- no, he knew that this was simply the predictable, homophobic reaction from a society too uptight to show genuine affection or even accept it from others. He was just glad that he and Andrew were nothing like that.  
Lunch with his agent had been tedious, which he really should have predicted; the man rarely had anything to say that he couldn't have said over the phone. He just liked to ‘check in’.  
(“Is that illegal, caring if you've died of scurvy and your cats are eating your rotting corpse?”)

After eating an uninspired pasta dish for dinner, Jesse was laying on his stomach across his bed with a book, his feet rubbing together occasionally out of habit rather than chill. The novel he was reading these days was Jonathan Franzen’s newest work, and while the author was interesting to say the least and usually sent Jesse to his own little world with every page, tonight he couldn't concentrate. He thought about the magazine cover he’d passed, then the red carpets he’d shared with Andrew, how they must have seemed to others. The way they had their arms around each other couldn't be too strange; Jesse was fairly certain that this was done by most co-stars having their picture taken.   
The way they would speak while in the spotlight, mouths close to the other’s ears, well, that was simply the only way to hear what the other was saying, what, with dozens of photographers yelling out their names and repetitive questions, cameras clicking away..  
Still, when Jesse thought of the way Andrew’s lips would always brush the shell of his ear or the scent of Andrew’s neck when he himself leaned in close to share a keen observation.. Anyone could splash on expensive cologne, but it wasn't that kind of scent; it was the way Andrew smelled beneath it, his own natural scent that was both comforting in its familiarity but also strangely arousing.

Wait, no, why would Andrew’s scent be arousing? That didn't make sense, Jesse told himself, because Andrew himself was not arousing.   
Well, maybe in some ways. Sure, Jesse sometimes felt a flutter in his stomach when Andrew gave him one of those smoldering looks that he did so well. But who wouldn't?   
The man had doe-eyes that rivaled the ones of the cartoon deer he resembled. And when Jesse was sharing a thought with Andrew on the red carpet the goal was usually to make him laugh, because when he did it lifted Jesse’s spirit. But that was normal, anyone would feel that way; they could bottle Andrew’s laughter and sell it as an anti-depressive.  
Speaking of which, Jesse had gone completely off anti-depressives and his dosage of anti-anxiety meds had gone down considerably. Sometimes he forgot to take them at all, often when he was alone with Andrew, and he never realized that he needed them until he was alone again or until he was crowded by press and fans. But that didn't mean anything, other than the fact that he had found a friend who made him feel comfortable with whom he was in a way that no other person ever had before.

He put the book away completely now and went to the bathroom to pee. When he was done relieving himself he removed one of his current feline tenants, Supernova, a pudgy white diva, from the sink and watched her stroll out the room, disgruntled at having her nap disturbed. Jesse washed his hands and studied himself in the mirror. He looked tired. A little sickly. Burdened with worries. If Andrew had been there he would have reached around the shorter man’s shoulder and given him a reassuring squeeze. The kind that without a single word told him that no matter what, there would always be one person who would hold on to him long after everyone else had let go.  
Jesse brushed his teeth, continuing down a path of thoughts that he was beginning to find dangerous. Emma once told him, all in good fun he assumed - though he was never sure with her - that the only difference between best friends and boyfriends was that boyfriends made you wanna put your genitals on them and they let you.  
Jesse spit in the sink and washed away the white foam, rinsing his toothbrush absentmindedly. There had to be other ways best friends and boyfriends differed, even though he couldn't think of anything right now. Emma was a freak. He deeply cared for her, but she was definitely cut from a whole different tree. Still, her theory suited him just fine for the purpose, because he did not want to put his genitals on Andrew. Of course, he didn't really wish to put his genitals on _anyone_ ; it seemed both invasive and excessively rude.  
But if it weren't for a few layers of clothing he had been putting his genitals on Andrew, and Andrew had done the same to him. They had been standing close so many times and when they hugged there was no space between them. 

Andrew liked to hug a lot, often and for long at a time, and Jesse had become so used to it, that he didn't even flinch at the fact that he could feel the shapes of the other man’s body against his own. Combined with Andrew warm breath on his neck, mouth against his forehead when he gave him a loving peck.. Platonic, of course. Mothers did that to their children, so why wouldn't a man who referred to them as being as close as brothers do the same?  
The memories of Andrew’s displays of affection came to him in waves of images and smells. There were sparks in his dark eyes when he looked at Jesse, that all-knowing smirk playing on his lips, not to mention the feeling of Andrew’s ever wandering hands; touching Jesse’s arms, his face, the sensitive skin on the back of his neck..  
Jesse felt blood rushing to his groin and released a choked sound of surprise when he broke the eye contact with himself, reached down and felt the hardness of his erection against his hand. The surprise was genuine and understandable since his medication had affected him in a very anti-sexual way; it had been a long time since he’d last been able to get fully hard. 

Then again, had it really been so long? He remembered the same thing happening the day he met Andrew, sitting at the table where they did the read-through. He’d gotten a teenage-like boner while they were reading lines and Sorkin had remarked that Jesse was a bit too frazzled and could dial it down, so he had forced his brain to focus on the words. His erection had soon gone down and that was the end of that. He hadn't thought of it since. It didn't mean anything.  
Except.. Jesse went to his bedroom, jumping slightly when two cats darted out,. He crawled under the covers and swallowed hard, because now he remembered clearly the most recent time this had happened to him, though he had done his best to forget. 

_He and Andrew had moved into the home they were sharing while filming and the first few days had been like reconnecting with an old friend. A few weeks into production they had been standing in the bathroom together, brushing their teeth, occasionally making eye contact in the mirror which made Andrew grin and Jesse avert his gaze for no apparent reason. Andrew had finished brushing, rinsed his toothbrush under the running water and padded over to the toilet where he unceremoniously started undoing the knot in his navy-blue pajama pants._  
Jesse panicked completely and left the bathroom, toothbrush still in hand, all but running into his bedroom and locking the door behind him. He put his toothbrush down on his nightstand and jumped into bed, pulling his covers all the way over his head like a child spooked by a horror movie. It wasn't until then he drew air into his lungs again and released a shuddering breath. He cursed himself both because he was acting so immaturely, and because there was no mistaking the stiffness pressing insistently against his boxers.   
“Why does this keep happening?!”, he hissed to himself, panting. This time he knew he couldn't rely on his body to relax on his own, especially because Andrew might soon confront him about being such a fucking lunatic. Jesse pushed his boxers down enough to free his erection and wrapped his hand around it, stroking it hurriedly. The sensation was almost unfamiliar but not at all unpleasant, and he was quickly getting close to completion - despite a briefly disturbing thought of how men who don’t masturbate regularly are more likely to get testicular cancer.   
In a matter of minutes the tension in his groin increased, his breaths came out short and ragged, that long lost but unmistakable feeling in his stomach telling him that he was there.. There.. There.. He was so close; his entire body tensed up and just then someone knocked on the door.  
“Jesse?”  
The sound of Andrew’s voice was the last straw. Jesse let out a strangled, breathy moan and jerked himself faster, milky white semen shooting out onto his stomach. He gave himself less than 5 seconds to recover, whipping off the shirt he was wearing and using it to wipe the evidence of his orgasm away, dropping it to the floor. He grabbed another shirt from his shelf and pulled it over his head, opening the door just as Andrew knocked again.  
“YES?”, Jesse said a little too loudly and Andrew frowned, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips as he leaned on the door frame. “What are you doing?”   
It was a legitimate question and Jesse thought faster than he ever had before. Too fast.   
“I didn't like the shirt I was wearing.”  
Just as he had said the words he realized how retarded they sounded and tried to keep a casual expression on his face as Andrew watched him for a moment, analytic, then finally spoke.  
“I suppose that’s fair enough, but why did you lock your door? Were you afraid I’d follow you in and relieve myself on your bed?” Jesse’s body gave a small jolt and he shook his head, “No, no, of course not. Old habit I guess..” Andrew nodded, clearly trying not to smile.  
“Alright. Well, just for the record, I promise that from now on I’ll warn you before I pull my penis out around you.”  
Jesse gave an awkward shrug. “Don’t worry about it.” He sighed, hating himself and blushed deeply. Andrew laughed and ruffled his hair, leaving to go to bed. Jesse wondered briefly if the other man had washed his hands. 

Now, many months later, he wasn't seeing Andrew every day. They hadn't really had a chance to hang out since wrapping up the movie, only seeing each other once every few weeks, but they never seemed to have time and freedom to hang out on their own, the way they were most comfortable.  
They were in the same city as Andrew was filming Spiderman and there was really no excuse to not spend more time together, except Jesse was always nervous about making contact. Whether it was going to book stores, seeing plays or just hitting a small bar, he let Andrew reach out, not wanting to make Andrew feel like he had to keep hanging out with him if he didn't want to. Jesse wouldn't wanna impose, even if he sometimes missed Andrew so much he wanted to scream.  
“Christ..”, Jesse thought. How embarrassing. He had been falling for Andrew the entire time and not even realized. He was aware of his poor social skills, but how could he have been so blind? Now, he had never been homophobic and the thought of being attracted to another man didn't disturb him more than physical attraction in general. But this wasn't just any man, it was Andrew.  
Gorgeous, talented, hilarious Andrew, his closest friend and humanity at its best; ridiculous hair, lean muscled body, Disney eyes and a heart-breaker smile. 

The erection Jesse had successfully willed away was making a stubborn comeback and he sighed, mindlessly dipping a hand into his boxers. He felt a tinge of disgust as he started rubbing himself, laying there trying not to fantasize about his best friend and failing, but the pleasure and promise of satisfaction in his movements made him go on. Suddenly his phone rang and he cursed it under his breath, answering it with his unoccupied hand without checking the screen first.  
“What?!”  
“Pardon me, old chap! I’ll just be off then!”  
Of course. Of all the millions of phone-connected people in the entire world, it had to be- “Andrew, hi! No, I’m sorry, I was just.. sleeping.”  
“My apologies, chap, I have not figured out your odd sleep-schedule..”  
Jesse chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, pulling his hand from his boxer shorts to rest of his stomach. “Andrew, are you drunk? You always get English-er when you’re intoxicated. And not even the part of England you’re from, it’s impressive.”

The other man feigned offence.  
“I resent the comparison between Englishness and intoxication, gov’ner!”  
Jesse laughed and Andrew caved and joined in, losing the accent he had been exaggerating.  
“But seriously, Jess, I’m sorry I woke you. It’s fairly early though; did you have a rough day on set?”  
Jesse shrugged, unaffected by the fact that the other man could not see him do it (besides with Andrew’s keen insight into other people’s psyche he might sense it anyway), then answered as truthfully as his dignity would allow him to; “I was actually off today, but my head’s been full of.. thoughts. I exhausted myself prematurely and decided to hit the sheets.”  
“Ah, yes, yes, the burdens of the thinking man. Thankfully I have been spared of those.”  
“That’s not true, you’re the smartest person I know.”  
“Are _you_ drunk, Jesse?”  
“I’m intoxicated with fatigue,” he offered.  
“Right, sorry, perhaps I should leave you to it then.”  
“No, stay with me, please.”  
“Alright..” Andrew sounded confused but compliant and Jesse smacked a hand over his eyes, thinking up some less needy words to reason with the man on the other end. “I’m having trouble sleeping, so I would rather talk to you than lay here in the dark, thinking more counterproductive thoughts. If that’s okay. But, oh, you’re out! Partying. We should hang up.”  
Jesse shivered pleasantly when Andrew gave a hearty laugh. “No, I just got home, we can talk. Trouble sleeping, hm? You know what I do when I can’t sleep?”  
“No, what do you do?”

There was silence and for a second Jesse thought his cell service provider had failed him but then he heard Andrew chuckling and blushed deeply, knowing what the other man had referred to.   
“Andrew!”  
The other man was still laughing but managed a coherent answer. “Oh, come on, we all do it. Tackle your sleep issue hand on..” He broke down laughing again and Jesse snorted, rolling his eyes.  
“Just because we all do it doesn't mean we should talk about it.”  
“Ah, so you admit that you enjoy the occasional wank?” He really had to be drunk, because usually he wouldn't dream of pushing Jesse’s boundaries this far. But Jesse, who mere minutes before had been about to perform the act spoken of, was determined to make the most of the conversation and didn't back down.  
“Yes, Andrew, I enjoy the occasional.. wank, okay? Happy now?”  
“Ecstatic, my dear, I’m relieved to hear that your needs are being met, even if it must be at your own hands..” Jesse could hear a clattering sound and suspected that Andrew was fixing himself a midnight snack before bed. The sounds held fond memories of their domesticated coexistence in Massachusetts and he firmly told himself, that they knew each other too well for him to be this apprehensive. He smiled slightly, courage growing, picking up the passive-aggressive tone he did so well on camera.  
“Must it be?”  
“Pardon?”  
“Must it be at my own hands?”

The clattering sound stopped and Jesse thought he could tell that Andrew was leaving the kitchen. His voice carried in a different way than it had moments before and sounded.. darker somehow. Smoldering even. “What are we talking about here, Eisenberg? A helping hand from a good friend?”  
“Helping hand, helping mouth, whatever..” Jesse breathed away from the phone. He could barely manage to exhale, perfectly aware that this was pushing his luck by several PSI. Andrew gave a humorless laugh.  
“Jesse, I wouldn't provoke me if I were you. I am fairly tanked and this kind of talk could take us places you don’t wanna go with me..”   
“What if I do?”  
“Jesse..” Andrew’s voice sounded almost angry and still held some doubt of the other man’s sincerity but it was also lower in key, more intimate. “What are you doing? Are you sure you’re not drunk?”  
Jesse took a deep breath, sliding his hand back into his boxers, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. “I’m not drunk, sincerely. And as for what I’m doing, I’m.. laying in bed..”  
“Jesse.”  
“ I've got my hand.. I’m..“  
“Jesse..”  
“I’m touching myself..”  
There was a sigh on the other end of the line, but it was not one of defeat or even of disbelief. It sounded remarkably like a sigh of regret. “Jesse. Go to sleep.” And the rest was dial tone.  
Jesse felt a not at all unfamiliar dread, like icy water running down his spine. He laid awake for hours wanting to cry over his own rotten stupidity but unable to, a thick lump filling his throat and he gasped repeatedly trying to catch his breath. What had he done?

\--

The next day, after having tossed and turned all night, Jesse woke up at noon but stayed in bed, shaking from cold sweat and staring at the ceiling, taking in panicky breaths. Just before 2 p.m. he left his bedroom on unstable legs and took a long hot shower, hands braced on the wall. As the rays pounded down on him, matting his curls down completely, he wondered what had made him act so irrationally the night before;  
his love and attraction to his co-star had gone from a sudden realization to a bold irrational move and was now an all-consuming worry. After toweling dry and putting on clean clothes he took to pacing his apartment and wringing his hands, only pausing to chew on his fingernails. He tried to read his book but once again his attention was compromised. He picked up and his phone and immediately put it back down.  
He hadn't been this restless since.. ever really.

Desperate to be distracted he finally called Justin Bartha and they met for a late lunch at a small vegetarian restaurant that Jesse loved, especially because it was a well-kept secret and he never had trouble getting a table or being left alone while eating. They ordered food, got their drinks and Justin sipped his sparkling water before asking, “So, what’s going on? You sounded anxious on the phone.” Jesse gave him a look denoting the redundancy of that statement and Justin rolled his eyes, adding, “I mean, you sounded more anxious than usual. Talk to me, brother.”  
Jesse raked through his salad with his fork, pushing tomato pieces to one side and cucumbers to the other. He shrugged. “I think I’m in love with Andrew.”  
Justin nodded in understanding but seemed entirely unfazed by this confession and Jesse mentally flicked himself for being the only person in the world not to realize that he was completely enamored by his former co-star. His next statement did get a reaction though, “He called me last night and I tried to get him to have phone-sex with me.”

Justin stopped chewing in the middle of a mouthful and stared at Jesse, slack-jawed. He managed to pull himself together, chewing and swallowing, then drank down a huge gulp of water, returning his face to shock-mode.“I am shocked, impressed and confused, in that order. Jesse, did you even tell him how you felt before you verbally jumped his bones?”  
Jesse shook his head. “No, he was drunk and he kept talking about masturbation- It seemed like a natural way for the conversation to progress.”  
Justin cracked an amazed smile and tried his hardest not to laugh, but when he spoke again his words were shaky with giggles. “How did he react?” Jesse ignored the comedic effect his tragic tale had and stubbornly looked down into his salad. “He seemed freaked out; he told me to go to sleep and hung up on me.” 

Justin stopped smiling and reached over to grab Jesse’s wrist, squeezing it for a few seconds before letting go. He and Jesse had known each other for a very long time and their relationship could best be described as that of brothers. Justin had seen Jesse at his worst, but he had never seen him like this.  
“You know, just because he wasn't up for impromptu phone-sex..” he stopped for a moment, willing a burst of laughter away. “What I’m saying is, if one of your friends started saying bizarre things while you were drunk, you wouldn't be able to deal with that either.” Jesse nodded, and the other man continued.  
“There’s a very real possibility that he’s in love with you too, so if he believed you were being serious about the phone-sex, he must have been hurt that you were trying for a cheap.. phone.. hook-up.”  
Jesse stared at his friend, mouth open in stunned realization. “Oh god.. Oh god, oh god, oh god! You’re right! I mean, not about him being in love with me, that’s ludicrous, but I’m his friend and I completely insulted him by saying perverted things to him.”

Justin shook his head, “No, no, I've seen the way he looks at you, there’s more than friendship there; I’m just saying, your approach was.. well, awful. I think you should see him, apologize for messing with him while he was drunk and then have a real conversation with him. Be honest. Tell him how you feel.”  
Jesse proceeded to stare at Justin for several long seconds to communicate his obvious issues with this plan and the way it coincided with his deep-rooted anxiety. Still, Justin had a point; a conversation needed to happen.

The problem was that Jesse’s hands were conspiring against him and refused to pick up the phone and text Andrew to ask him to meet up. He gave up around 10.30 at night and sat on the couch, holding his book open without actually reading it. After 20 minutes of this, he got changed into pajama pants and a threadbare t-shirt, brushed his teeth, washed his face and got in bed, sighing as he got comfortable under the covers. It wasn't a sigh of content or comfort, but rather the kind a man makes when he feels the full weight of his own idiocy. 

A man whose phone vibrated to the musical poetry of Ween. Jesse stared at the device for a few seconds, then picked it up and connected the call. That was as far as his current abilities went though; he couldn't force out single word, just breathed unevenly into the phone. The person on the other end hesitantly asked, “Jess?”  
It was Andrew. Of course it was Andrew; Jesse managed a weak, “Hi..” and the other man sounded like he was smiling when he spoke again. He had to be outside; Jesse could hear the occasional wind whistling through the phone .  
“Jess, I wanted to.. About last night, that phone call?”  
Jesse’s stomach turned violently and for a second he contemplated hanging up and turning off the phone, but Andrew continued, sounding apologetic.  
“I checked my calls this morning and I saw that I called you, and that we spoke for quite a while.. I can’t imagine how stupid I must have sounded, so I just wanted to call you and tell you I’m sorry for drunk-dialing you.”  
Jesse’s eyes widened impossibly and he was glad Andrew couldn't see.   
“You- you don’t remember what we talked about?”  
“Oh god, I’m sorry, did I miss something important?”

Jesse thought about it for a moment; he had a rare opportunity to erase the previous night and all the stupid things he’d said and let Andrew forget how much Jesse had embarrassed himself. But Jesse wasn't one to lie. He felt torn. Andrew’s voice was starting to sound worried.  
“Jess?”  
“I tried to have phone sex with you.”  
There was a beat of silence, then Andrew started laughing; he sounded out of breath when he finally came to. “Just now?”, he chuckled. “I think it would usually involve talking.”  
“No, last night.”  
Andrew was quiet again, for longer this time. Jesse shivered, feeling on the brink of panic and stuttered out, “I’m sorry!” and Andrew cleared his throat, twice.  
“You’re serious.”  
“Yeah..”  
“We had phone-sex?”  
“Uhm, n-no, not exactly; I tried to have phone-sex with you and you told me to go to sleep.”  
Jesse briefly wondered if it would be possible for him to smother himself with a pillow but then, once again, Andrew’s voice turned apologetic.  
“Jess, I’m so sorry, I really don’t remember; you know how rarely I drink. I wasn't myself. Obviously. I mean, if I had been myself I wouldn't have turned down phone-sex with you.”  
“It’s fine, I shouldn't have- Wait, what? What did you just say?”  
Andrew gave an embarrassed laugh. “Jess.. I’m so obvious and you’re so oblivious. I love you.”  
“I love you too?”  
“Do you know that we've said that to everyone who stood still long enough to hear it, but not each other? Jess, I don’t mean just as a friend; I mean, I love you, love you.”  
“In a phone-sex kind of way?”  
“In a phone-sex, wearing-your-shirts, holding-your-hand, wanna-raise-cats-with-you kind of way.”  
“M-me too! I love you too, Andrew..”  
Jesse could hear the faint sound of Andrew breathing out in relief, and he smiled widely. He continued, feeling braver now; “And hey, I already have cats.”  
Andrew chuckled. “Perfect. And we've already worn each other’s shirts.”  
“That leaves hand-holding and phone-sex.”  
“I look forward to it,” Andrew snickered. “Although, I’m not sure we’re quite ready for phone-sex yet.”  
“No?”  
“No, I think we should probably have real sex first; so that when we eventually do have phone-sex we know what we’re talking about.”  
Jesse gulped at the idea of having a naked Andrew at his fingertips and forced himself to not stutter.  
“Very wise; real sex first then. So, where do we go from here?”  
“I’d start by opening your door.”

It took him a second to realize what Andrew meant, but when it hit him he jumped up from the bed, and ran out into the hall, scooping up a fat ginger cat to avoid kicking it. By the time he’d undone all his locks and opened the door, the cat was purring contently in his arms. He felt like purring himself when he found Andrew on his doormat, million dollar smile plastered on his face. He tried to appear casual.  
“Hello, Jesse. Jesse’s foster child, I don’t believe we've met?”  
“His name is Eisenhower.”  
Andrew gently squeezed one of the small paws that was kneading the air and moved it up and down in a hand/paw-shake.  
“General, pleased to meet you. I don’t mean to be rude, but could I have a moment with this young soldier?”  
Eisenhower made a low mewling sound and Jesse laughed, setting the feline down; Eisenhower rubbed against Andrew’s leg, and then sauntered into the next room. Jesse watched the cat leave and turned back to Andrew who stepped closer, slipping both of his hands into Jesse’s.   
“Hi..”  
“We’re holding hands.”  
“Yes, we are.”  
“Our relationship is really progressing this week.”  
Andrew rested his forehead against Jesse’s and the shorter man could feel him shaking slightly from laughter; but his tone of voice turned calm and warm.  
“You’re fantastic..”  
His hot mouth found Jesse’s, catching his bottom lip. The kiss was gentle and sweet but there was doubt to be had of the passion burning behind it. When they broke apart they took a little bit of each other with them and never gave it back. Their relationship was new but their love had started from the beginning. And as time would tell, it lasted till the end.


End file.
